


Skipping Stones

by Sunnybone



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-War, married Sylvix raising Miklan's kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24574405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunnybone/pseuds/Sunnybone
Summary: Sylvain and Felix take a day to visit a pond with their niece and nephew after realizing the children were never taught to swim.Written late forSylvain Week 2020Day 1: Family
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 109
Collections: Sylvain Week 2020!





	Skipping Stones

**Author's Note:**

> Ah I haven't posted anything on here with these OC kids because technically this could be considered a sequel of sorts to In Plain Sight, which is Not Complete lmao. Basically, Sylvain and Felix wind up raising Miklan's Srengi daughter, Rory, and her half-brother, Devlin, after their mother dies. I don't want to give Too Much detail because I _do_ plan to write fic that goes into full detail, so basics for this fic:
> 
> -Rory: 9, with red hair and freckles (she is Very Obviously A Gautier), boisterous, likes playing in the dirt and practicing archery.  
> -Devlin: 5, small and blond and Very Shy and quiet, everyone calls him Dev.
> 
> I haven't published anything _here_ about them, but I have two gdoc fics which can be found [here on twitter](https://twitter.com/AceMorningStar/status/1218058592881954816?s=20), if you are interested

Growing up in Faerghus, and especially the North, Sylvain and Felix had learned to swim. Felix's lands were coastal and actually got warm enough in the summers to justify crazy things like swimming in ponds or dipping into the frigid ocean, and any parent in Gautier who didn't want their child immediately drowning in the event they dropped through ice made sure in the thin summers to teach them to swim.

Because this knowledge was a necessity and an especial given in Gautier, Sylvain didn't really consider whether or not his niece and nephew could swim. They were old enough to walk and talk, and by the time _he'd_ been that old he couldn't remember being taught. So it was Felix who frowned when Sylvain suggested a family picnic to a pond they'd played at as children and asked, "Do you think they learned to swim? Sreng is mostly desert, isn't it?"

And then it was Sylvain who panicked, upon learning that Rory and Devlin did _not_ know how to swim, and became suddenly convinced that Dev would drown in the bath if Sylvain looked away for three seconds. So it was Felix, somehow the _levelheaded_ parent out of the two of them, who said they ought to go to the pond after all. It was where he'd learned to swim as a child, anyways, so it should serve just as well for _their_ children. 

Which is how they'd decided on clearing their schedules for a day, packing up a lunch and other necessities, and saddling two horses to ride down to the pond for the afternoon. It isn't a very long ride, and in their childhood they had often walked, but horses will be convenient when they are all tired at the end of the day. Rory, just slightly pouty about having to ride in front of her uncle instead of on the pony she'd been slowly learning to ride herself, is eventually thawed by the nice weather and the incurable curiosity of a rowdy nine-year-old.

"But why do we _have_ to learn? It doesn't seem very important, we hardly go to places with lots of water." She says it matter-of-fact in her lightly accented Fodlani, even though Felix isn't part of the conversation, and Sylvain hums with a slight affection to his thoughtfulness.

"Well, you don't _have_ to learn if you don't want to," and he thinks more about things like Dev's mistrust of horses than any possibility Rory won't want to learn to swim, "but it's a good skill to have just in case. It's one more way you can take care of yourself, like your skill with a bow and how good you are with maps." Of course, Sylvain is determined that these children— _his_ children, now—won't ever _need_ to take care of themselves again, but appealing to Rory's independence is best. She's like Felix in that way, always wanting to prove she can hold her own. "Plus," he adds, "sometimes swimming's fun."

Rory seems skeptical about that—she has a _disdain_ for baths, and _isn't a pond just like a big bath?_ —but she moves on from asking about swimming to telling Sylvain a story about some of the local boys she'd been running around with. Sylvain looks over her head as she tells the story and catches Felix's eye, earns himself a fond little smile before Felix turns back to Dev in his lap to answer some query.

Once they've arrived and set out a blanket and their supplies, Sylvain settles down in front of Felix and grins as his husband smoothes salve across his cheeks to keep him from burning in the sun. Sylvain could do this himself, but if even an adult like _Sylvain_ has to subject himself to such precautions, Rory with her winter-desert skin and Gautier freckles can't complain about similar treatment. And besides, it's nice to have Felix dote on him, a bit. 

Felix is even more thorough with the children, in a precise and careful way that twists Sylvain's heart; Sylvain is equally precise and careful when he ministers to Felix and says, soft and with a smile softer, "I love you." Felix rolls his eyes but his cheeks pink as if he'd gone all day in the sun already without the salve.

Then they set about teaching the children to swim. Dev takes to it quick and easy, to Sylvain's relief, but Rory is slower. Every time she tries to float she clings to Sylvain's hands with anxiety she would deny, her whole little body tense. Sylvain is used to dealing with these sorts of things, though—has spent his life learning to ease tension, first with horses and then with Miklan and later still with Felix. He is good at being distracting or relaxing, or whatever a situation calls for.

Eventually he has Rory swimming calmly, only holding to one hand while Dev holds Sylvain's other as they paddle and talk, Felix taking a break on the shore to set out a late lunch. "I don't see how this is _fun_ , though," Rory sniffs, and Sylvain supposes that yes, _learning_ is probably quite boring.

"Well. This is just the first part, right? Like learning your bow. Shooting's fun, but learning how probably wasn't very much." Rory looks at him blankly, and he laughs. "Never mind, poor analogy, I forget you're as bad as Felix with swords. More like reading, then. It's hard and boring to start, but once you get the hang of it you'll enjoy it a lot more." He looks back at the shore, gives Felix a smile when their eyes meet briefly.

Sylvain hums with a memory. "You know, Felix and I used to come here when I was around your age, Rory, with Ingrid and His Majesty and Felix's brother. Glenn was the oldest, and bigger than all of us, and he used to take turns tossing us into the pond. Kind of a game to see who he could throw the farthest." Sylvain had been almost as big as Glenn, by that point, so he hadn't gotten very far, but it had still been hilarious.

"He _tossed_ you?" Dev asks, eyes wide, and Sylvain nods.

"Yeah, right out into the pond like skipping stones. Tons of fun." 

"Will you throw _us_?" he asks, and Sylvain's smile goes a bit softer. 

"Sure, but only if you want me to. And maybe after we get some more practice in, huh?"

"He even threw Felix?" Rory asks suddenly, and she casts a skeptical eye to where Felix is sitting on the blanket. It's not that no one could throw him into a pond, it's just… who would _dare_? He's never _mean_ with the children, but Felix is hardly as bright and silly as Sylvain can be for them—and that's not a bad thing, it's simply his nature. Sylvain is the bright and warm parent, and Felix is the calm and safe one. Felix just doesn't seem like the type to be thrown in a pond for fun. The kids love him, anyways, so nothing _needs_ to change, but Sylvain grins as an idea forms.

"Oh yes, _especially_ Felix. When we were kids, he was always the smallest—as little as you, even," he says to Devlin, who goes wide eyed in awe; the boy absolutely worships Felix. "He always flew the farthest, I was a little jealous." He leans in towards them, pulling them a bit closer with their joined hands and says, conspiratorial, "D'you wanna see how far I can throw him now?"

When they climb onto the shore a few minutes later, the children are giggly as Sylvain makes his way over to Felix, who is busy kneeling to gather towels for them to all dry off. He’s in the process of turning to hand a towel to Sylvain when Sylvain makes his move, leaning down and scooping Felix up. “Wh—Sylvain, put me down!” he demands, wriggling and dropping the towel, and Sylvain only grips tighter and starts to carry him towards the water.

“Hey, Fe, remember when we used to come here as kids?” Sylvain starts, in his sweetest and most harmless tone, and Felix momentarily freezes as he realizes _exactly_ what Sylvain is doing. Immediately he starts to struggle again, though it’s not anywhere near _serious_ —if Felix wants Sylvain to _stop_ , _really_ , he is more than capable of _making_ Sylvain put him down.

“Don’t you _dare_ , Sylv—aagh!” Sylvain’s name transforms into a yelp as Sylvain throws him, cut off by the slap of Felix's body against the water and the splashes of his flailing arms. Felix is obviously much bigger than he was as a child, and Sylvain hadn’t thrown him any harder than he might have thrown Felix onto their bed, so he hasn’t exactly gone far from where Sylvain is standing knee-deep in the water. Still, the water comes to the middle of his torso when Felix rises, scowling and dripping. He looks a bit like an illustration of a kelpie, dark and beautiful, face half-obscured by strands of wet hair.

“Not your best distance, Sweetheart,” Sylvain says, grinning, and Felix glances at their laughing children behind Sylvain as he shoves hair out of his face. Felix reaches out a hand for Sylvain to help him out of the water, the oldest trick in the book, but Sylvain figures he’s earned a little revenge if Felix wants it. He takes Felix’s hand, but Felix doesn’t tug him face-first into the water, only lets Sylvain pull him to shore with a _glint_ in his eye.

This is because, the instant they are on shore and Sylvain turns his back like a fool, Felix aims a swift kick at the back of his knee that has him down on the ground in seconds—Felix is as good at brawling as he is with a sword, even years after the war, and the kick is more shocking than damaging. Sylvain doesn’t really have time to react before Felix is bending down and _lifting him up_ , and he squirms with an undignified yelp of surprise.

“Fe, wait—your _back_ —” Seiros and Sothis, Felix is gonna throw his back out picking up Sylvain for a little childish prank, and Sylvain _does not_ wriggle out of fear of toppling them— 

“ _Please_ ,” Felix says, with an almost _audible_ eyeroll in his tone, “you’re not even armored.” And, yes, Felix has been known to throw armored opponents in brawling matches, but that’s always about leveraging weight and redirecting motion, not _picking up and carrying his much larger husband_ — 

Which is exactly what Felix is doing, with apparently only a little effort, and _oh shit, that’s_ so _hot_ —

Sylvain is still thinking about how to get Felix to repeat that trick in the bedroom when Felix tosses him in the water. It’s a bit more like ‘letting go vigorously’ than ‘tossing’, but Sylvain still winds up underwater, and when he surfaces he’s met with more childish laughter and Felix grinning smugly down at him. Sylvain doesn’t even try to tug Felix down into the water when he helps him up, just leans to kiss him quick before he says, “You win; you flew farther, after all.”

Felix just smirks and shoves a laughing Sylvain back into the water.

They eventually dry off and eat lunch, and Sylvain returns to the water with Rory while Dev naps on their picnic blanket, Felix reading beside him. By the time Sylvain can tell Rory is tiring, she is confident enough in her swimming to paddle around without assistance. He convinces her out of the pond with the news that their head cook, Mary, had mentioned baking tarts that morning, and after that it’s short work to saddle up and head home.

Dinner is uneventful, Dev quiet as always and Rory’s usual exuberance tempered by a day in the sun, though the promised tarts do give the children enough pep to ‘study’ with Felix before bed. This largely consists of Felix and the children curled on comfortable chairs in the library while Rory reads aloud and Felix helps her through any difficulties. Sylvain suspects that these 'lessons' sometimes double as a chance for Felix to secretly study Srengi, and he _knows_ that the lessons double as an excuse for Felix to sit quietly and simply _be_ with the kids. Sylvain uses the time to go over some of the paperwork he and Felix had put off for the day, to lessen a bit of the work they’ll have in the morning.

He manages to entirely miss putting the kids to bed, distracted by a particularly number-dense account of fishing yields for one of the Fraldarius ports. Felix extracts him from the pages with fingers in his hair and a kiss at his temple and the command, “Come to bed. The work will be there in the morning; it never goes away.” 

Sylvain does as he’s told, leaves the work for the morning and follows Felix to their room, watches as Felix brushes out his hair to braid before bed. He even very politely waits until Felix finishes braiding before he pounces, leaning down over the back of the chair where Felix sits in front of the mirror, pressing kisses down the side of his face and neck; he catches Felix’s braid and uses it to tilt his head to the side, nips light at his jawline and gets a content sigh for his efforts.

“I was wondering,” Sylvain says against Felix’s skin, watching his face in the mirror, “about whether you might carry me to bed some time.” Not tonight, because they’re both tired, and he’s not in the mood for anything terribly athletic. Well. He’s _always_ in the mood for anything Felix is up for, he’s just not sure he’d keep up, tonight, and that would be a shame.

“I thought you were worried about my _back_ ,” Felix sighs as Sylvain pulls teeth light down his throat, glancing up at Sylvain through his reflection with the tiniest, teasing smirk; of course Felix had picked up on Sylvain’s reaction to Felix carrying him around, and of course he is going to taunt Sylvain with it. Sylvain expects no less, and his mouth curves into its own smile that makes Felix shiver.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m _very_ concerned about your back, Sweetheart,” he says, dropping another kiss into the crook of Felix’s neck. “After all, if you pull a muscle, it’s going to be awfully hard for you to fuck me sen—” Felix doesn’t even let him finish, which is _rude_ , but Sylvain won’t complain when his method of shutting Sylvain up is turning and rising from his seat to drag Sylvain into a biting, hungry kiss.

“You’re already senseless,” Felix says, holding Sylvain’s face, and Sylvain laughs and pulls Felix around the chair between them, tugs him tight and close and tucks their foreheads together.

“I love you,” he says, feeling Felix breathe, watching his eyelashes kiss his cheeks in little flutters when he looks down and brushes fingers across the back of Sylvain’s neck.

“I love you, too.”

And Felix may not _carry_ him there, but he takes Sylvain to bed, all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Find me on twitter at [@AceMorningStar](https://twitter.com/AceMorningStar)


End file.
